The Texas Sterling Collection

Chapter 1

Chapter One

WYL

What was I doing here? I glanced at my classmates.

Damn, they were young. The age of my children, if I had children.

Did gay couples have children? My years in the Marines shielded me from gay life, so my gay experience is almost nonexistent.

I half expected these youngsters to eye me, nudge the one next to them, and whisper about the old guy in the back corner.

What if my classmates discovered my gay side?

To them, I'm ancient. My last student experience stretched back almost a quarter century to Blackfield High. Am I cut out for college? Thanks to the Marines, I learned computer coding. But with regular computer programs like college kids use for, well, whatever they used them for, I’m clueless.

Oh, I mastered basic word processing and simple spreadsheets, but not much else.

I learned how to use my cell phone for talking and texting, but all the apps confused me.

I shuddered. There were so many reasons I didn’t belong in this classroom.

A man, who I figured was the professor, walked in carrying a book and papers.

He appeared to be about my age. Handsome, too.

A possible friend? Nope. Too complicated.

Besides, are any college professors gay?

I doubt it. I bet the gay population in Blackfield is, oh, one.

Me. My one disastrous fling with a fellow Marine years ago in Europe ended in disaster.

I'm not trudging down that path again. Not in Blackfield. Besides, if my brother found out, what would he do? At least if I earned a degree, I could support my half of Sterling Ranch. But so far, nothing eliminated my apprehension about college and the sense that I didn’t belong.

* * *

ROD

I enjoyed the first class day of each semester, but something about this day felt different. A sense of eager anticipation tapped me on the shoulder and whispered: Today holds a surprise.

I scanned the classroom. It held the usual mix of students from different backgrounds and majors.

As I set my book and notes on the podium, my eye caught an unexpected lone figure in the back row to the right.

A handsome older man. Not old by any means, but intriguing.

His posture and expression said, oh-shit-what-have-I-gotten-myself-into.

He eyed the teens as if they were some sort of alien life form.

I wondered what brought him here. I wanted to comfort him.

Ease his worries. Be his friend. I shook my head. What a ridiculous thought.

My ten-year committed relationship ended several years ago when my husband, Patrick, embezzled half a million dollars from the bank where he worked, and disappeared.

Relationships with other men stayed off my list. Still, this intriguing student, with broad shoulders and jet-black hair pulled back tight against his scalp, took top honors as one fantastic specimen of eye candy.

His olive skin and striking facial features pointed to an interesting genetic background.

I never studied genetics, but I struggled to take my eyes off him.

I needed to learn more about this handsome stranger, so I would deviate from my usual start to class and ask all students to introduce themselves.

At least his name is on my roll sheet. He glanced up, and our eyes locked.

Oh, shit. A jolt coursed through me. What kind of magic did this mysterious student possess?

My heart went into overdrive as he gazed into my inner spirit.

And yet his gaze showed part pleading and part resignation.

He was lost, and I would do everything possible to welcome him.

I snapped my attention to the classroom and clapped my hands to quiet the chatter.

"Welcome, everyone. I’m Dr. Rod Bonner.” I cleared the raspiness from my throat.

The handsome student’s presence did a number on me.

“I am Division Chair of Fine Arts and your instructor for Music Appreciation. Welcome to the first day of the fall semester. I want you to stand, give your name, tell something about yourself, and share with the class how you ended up at White Buffalo Community College in this little West Texas town of Blackfield.”

A collective groan rose, and students shifted in their seats. I pointed to the student in the first row on my left. “Stand, tell us your name and where you’re from, and share why you came to White Buffalo Community College.